Locker 132
by The Jasper Raven
Summary: [NoctLight] It takes a magic touch to un-stick the cheap, rusty lockers of Bodhum High. Lightning's positive of this. On a particularly aggravating day, that magic touch comes to rescue her from more than just her locker door.


Locker 132

"Just open, you cheap piece of crap!"

The hostile battlecry never failed to turn a frightened head, despite how common the sound was. Claire Farron's eternal war with her locker door was one of many daily fixtures that defined Bodhum High School. However, that day's warnings towards the inanimate object were audibly more vicious than per usual, and her peers gave her a wide berth as they scurried past her and off to class.

The senior classman stood before the painted-chrome metal, wearing a blistering glare, fingers coiled into tight fists at her sides. She did not tolerate failure, especially not from such high functioning technology. The locks were digital, requiring only the matching four-digit code for the user to be recognized and given access. Her door always accepted her code without complaint but, years of neglect had left the corners rusted and thereby frequently jammed. It was a nuisance to try prying it open every day but, usually after a few hard tugs, it flew open. But, that day, the last day before the start of final exams and the first blazing hot day to start off the summer, the horrid demon door gave its graduating owner a brand new challenge. Today, it decided to refuse her code.

The familiar numbers that she input every day for the past year continued to beep red each time she tried them. She reviewed them over and over again to make certain she hadn't made an error in her over-heated state. Only half of the school building could be afforded proper air-conditioning and – lucky as she was – her locker and more than half of her classes were located on the other side, far, far away from any hope of relief. A crown of beading sweat adorned her forehead and glistened on her half-bare thighs. She was sticky and disgusting and she just wanted to get to her last class and go home for a swim in the sea. She _did not_ need this right now.

Drawing upon her last breath of calm before she exploded, she flexed her tensed hand and carefully tapped in her unique combination.

She read the numbers on the little, digital screen.

They were correct.

She read them _again_.

Still correct.

She pressed her thumb against the "Enter" button.

…Processing.

…Still processing…

…DENIED.

"What the f -"

She didn't finish the curse before raising her booted foot in a fury and slamming it into the reverberating metal. The impact sent her recoiling back a few steps, and in her wrathful fixation, she was blind to all else until her back collided with that of a passing bystander. Swift hands rose up to catch her beneath her arms, softly halting her backwards descent. She was quick to disentangle herself from the rescuer, spinning around in frustrated mortification to issue her immediate apology.

"Sorry, so sorry!" she said past her gritted teeth, barely restraining herself from screaming out the words.

She'd squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her knuckles to her brow, as if that would somehow help to contain her anger from displacing onto the other student. If they knew what was good for them, they would just take the apology and get the hell out of there before she re-focused the sights but, the fool missed his chance for escape.

"Are you alright?" the kid asked, and instantly, the flames of her agitation were stoked higher.

She hated that question. Did her present demeanor not answer that clearly enough? Would it kill people to open their damn eyes and perceive for themselves whether or not she was "alright?" Her eyes tore open to glare at the boy, and she was just about to snap at him before that annoying little "voice of reason" in the back of her head quickly advised her not to. He wasn't one of her fellow peers – if he were, he would have known better than to stick around when she was this pissed. She couldn't blame a visitor for not knowing the unspoken code of peer conduct in regards to her temper.

He didn't look like a typical Bodhum boy either. She was used to seeing spray-tans and short-shorts, and sunglasses with T-shirts from the usual tourists. Biker black jeans and button-up suit-shirts were practically taboo in the Seaside City, which was all about vibrant colors and letting loose. The stranger stood out as a shadow against the bright and bubbly backdrop of bikini-ready blondes. A dark phantom of charcoal hair and smooth white skin, he was as out of place as a rose in a garden of sunflowers. He looked at her with curious, soft blue eyes, tilting his face to better see hers when she didn't answer his question.

"Miss?"

Once more, she restrained herself from returning with some scathing rudeness, and instead turned her back to him, grumbling, "I'm fine, sorry for bumping into you." It was as polite of a dismissal as he was going to get out of her and she expected him to waltz right off, shooting her a dirty look for her abrasiveness, and that would be it. She resumed her onslaught on the locker door, violently jerking at the handle but, was only rewarded with a volley of metallic clangs and zero lee-way. Her breaths came in huffs of defeated exhaustion. Degrading as it would be to her own self-pride, she was just on the verge of surrendering to the defective machine when the unfamiliar voice spoke at her back.

"Can I help?"

The offer made her bristle like an offended chocobo, her shoulders knotting together to visibly oppose the idea. She clamped her jaw down on an insult she was ready to spit at him in the hopes of making him go away. Don't hurt the poor kid, her rationality told her. It's not his fault he's an idiot. Taking a deep, deep, _deep_ breath through her nose and glaring at the blank locker for a moment to gather herself, she sent an acidic and insistent, "I'm fine," over her shoulder.

"Really?" he replied, an unconvinced smile lifting his lips.

Her rage flashed wildly against the threat of mockery as she turned on him, screwing rationality and ready to punch him if he thought she wasn't capable of helping herself. The mildness to his grin made her re-think her rashness. Regardless of his seemingly polite demeanor, Lightning still remained stalwart in her resolve to win this battle on her own.

"I. _Don't. Need. _Your. Help," she reiterated, dividing each word for emphasis – since her first attempts had apparently not been clear enough.

"Why don't you just let me give it a try?" he insisted as if he hadn't heard her, stepping up to the rusted metal. "What's your combination?"

Slack-jawed and uncomprehending, she stared at him, with his fingers poised above the key-pad. Did he have a death wish? Or was he simple-minded? Either way, whatever patience she'd managed to exercise in the wake of his ignorance was finally spent.

"I'm not giving my combination to a total stranger!" she snapped, hands resuming the shape of fists.

"Then let's not be strangers."

He surprised her suddenly, turning his palm from above the unrelenting buttons to instead face her, extending into an offer of greeting. She blinked in confusion, switching her eyes between his hand and face. The complacency of his smile still had not changed. Her stubbornness continued to unfazed him, and he gave her his name like they were meeting on cordial terms instead of callous ones.

"Hi. I'm Noctis."

Her response was silence. He got nothing in reply except the last thuds of footsteps as the hallway crowds thinned to nothing. She kept staring at him, half-hoping that the immovable intensity of her glare might be enough to unnerve him into leaving. No such luck. Refusing to shake his hand and crossing her arms to further the point, she outright told him what she thought of his boldness.

"You're unbelievable."

"No, I'm Noctis."

Her teeth burned with how hard she clenched them together, not finding his humor endearing. Still wearing his undeterred smile, the idiot, Noctis, returned his hand to his side but, not as a gesture of surrender.

"If you don't tell me your name," he persisted, "I'll have to keep calling you 'Miss.'"

How he knew that she hated being called that was beyond her but, he was right. If she heard him call her "Miss" one more time, she might shove him into that locker so hard it'd snap off its hinges. She'd get the damn thing open and get payback at the same time. Tempting.

…_Very_ tempting. (And the number of witnesses were lessening, too.)

Maybe a year or two ago, when she'd had a higher penchant for violence, she would have gone through with it. But, if she wanted to graduate from this hell-hole without any threat of set-backs, she needed to keep her record clean. Plus, it was too hot to waste that amount of energy on him. With a heavy sigh, she conceded her name – the one her peers still refused to address her by, despite her ferocious adamancy to stop calling her anything otherwise.

"My name is Lightning. And I'm still not giving you the combination."

"You don't have to worry, Lightning," he continued, quickly adapting her name into his vocabulary. "It's not like I'll be coming back to break in and steal your valuables."

"I'm just supposed to take your word for it?"

"Unless you'd rather be late and unprepared for class."

"I'll take my chances."

His aqua-hued irises slipped to the side to glance at her in acceptance of this challenge, and her own responded with defiant opposition.

"Why don't you let people help you?" he asked, suddenly, eyes narrowing in thought.

"Why are you assuming I don't?" she snapped. "Maybe you're the only one."

He took the blow, unflinchingly, his smile soft and saccharine. What Lightning couldn't understand was how _natural_ the smile was beneath the force of her animosity. When she lost her temper with her guidance counselor, that smile was over-sweetened and condescending, regarding her like some uncultured savage in need of rehabilitation. She had yet to meet a single soul that could take her verbal hits without a negative reaction.

As she was thinking this, the metallic peal of the bell that marked the start of the next class sang, and Lightning's frayed patience finally snapped.

"Screw this! I've gotta go."

With a heated huff, Lightning turned on her booted heel and made to storm away, forfeiting all victories she'd hoped to achieve over both the stranger and her locker. They just weren't worth the wasted effort. She'd hardly made it two steps down the hall before she heard the quiet patter of finely tailored shoes against the filthy tiled floor coming after her, along with a volley of half-desperate "hey"s. When his fingers brushed against her elbow in an attempt to catch her, Lightning's teeth clamped together, the soles of her shoes sunk into the ground, and she whipped around to rage at him.

"I don't have time for this! I've got finals to study for and a dumb graduation ceremony to practice for and even dumber colleges that they're making me look at to decide where my future's going to be! So, just go away!"

There was a shocked pause between the two of them, the shock more on her side than his. She couldn't believe that she'd just unhinged like that, and over a complete stranger that was just trying to lend a hand with her stupid locker no less! Noctis's expression wasn't as disconcerted by her outburst as she thought it might be. The mild crease in his forehead and slightly turned down corners of his lips were more perplexed than angered, and to settle his confusion, he asked her the oddest question she thought she'd ever heard.

"Why do you have to?'

It was Lightning's turn to look baffled in response, watching him through slitted eyes.

"_What_?" she asked, exasperated with this boy's persistence towards occupying her attention.

"Why do you _have_ to do all those things?" he repeated. "Shouldn't they be things you _want_ to do?"

Lightning was quiet, staring at him, uncomprehendingly. "Shouldn't they be things she _wanted_ to do, not _had_ to do?" …It was certainly the most thought-provoking question she'd been asked throughout the entirety of her high school career, mostly due to how clear it was in comparison to every other question she'd been asked in regards to her future. She had never known why discussions about her post-graduate life angered her as much as they did. Whenever her guidance counselor brought up college, a seed of resentment started blistering in the pit of her stomach. Now, Lightning realized the cause was due to the queries being conveyed more as commands. There wasn't any other option in their minds. That was where her life was going, and if she went down any other road, it would only lead to her becoming a waste of space; a cancer upon all societal expectations.

In truth, Noctis was completely correct in his observation. She _didn't_ want to do any of the things she'd listed. She didn't want to rake her hands through her hair at three o' clock in the morning before her final exams, stressing over how to score the perfect grade which would secure her admittance into a respectable university. She didn't want to fake a gracious smile to the Board of Education as they handed her the diploma, thanking them for preparing her for a life she never wanted. She didn't want to go to college.

She must have said one of those things out loud because she was withdrawn from her thoughts by a steady hand upon her shoulder.

"I get it," Noctis said to her, smiling gently. "You're told all your life what it is you're supposed to do, that you never have the chance to figure out what you want to do for yourself."

"What would you know about it?" Lightning mumbled, a little less hostile now that her thoughts were occupied with something more pressing than finding him annoying.

"How much time you got?" he replied with a light chuckle.

It was already far too late to excusably enter her last class. She briefly weighed the consequences of cutting it altogether and came to the conclusion that she really didn't give a damn. Lightning gestured to the long set of windows across from the lockers and the pair perched themselves upon the inner ledge, leaning against the glass.

"You in the same boat?" Lightning asked, drawing up a knee and lacing her fingers around her ankle.

"Not quite. It's the reverse, actually. I'd like to go to college and be able to meet new people on my own terms. However, the life my family has planned for me doesn't allow for much free-will on my part."

Lightning sent him a quizzical look, unable to think of which career could possibly perpetuate such solitude. He didn't meet the glance though, eyes instead fixed upon the floor and fingers curled along the edge of his seat.

"I can't imagine what parent _wouldn't_ want their kid to go to college," she chuckled, a bitter note to her voice.

"My…parents were raised to abide by a much different life-standard," he replied, hesitating slightly on the word "parents," as if it weren't the proper noun to describe them. "How about yours? Are they the ones forcing you to go?"

Lightning's eyes darkened when he flipped the subject from his lineage to hers. A cold sensation swept up from the bottom of her chest and into her throat, burning just as much as it numbed. It was her turn to stare at the floor while he raised his gaze to look at her.

"My parents aren't around," she forced herself to say, keeping it curt in the hope that he wouldn't ask anything more.

She was mistaken in thinking that the tone of her voice would dissuade him – it hadn't worked before. Although she could tell that his pressing her was only intentioned towards understanding her better, she still wished that he would stop.

"They ditched you?"

"Of course not…"

"Then, where did they -"

"They're dead, alright!"

The words lashed out like the crack of a whip, and the echo which lingered in the empty hall haunted her own ears more than it did his. She hastily redirected her gaze out the window, pressing her forehead against the glass and hugging her knee closer to her chin. Even after all those years, it was still hard to say. Just when she thought that she might be on the verge of accepting it, when the moment came where she had to admit to it being true, her efforts to put it all behind her were proven futile. Then, the memory of the pain she'd first felt upon learning that they were gone came swinging back to hit her just as hard as the first blow.

Even the new name she'd adopted for herself to destroy Claire and the agony she bore on her shoulders, couldn't strike her down for good. Fragments of that pony-tailed girl in her lacy black dresses continued to creep into the cracks of her broken heart, barely held together by the responsibility to her remaining family. The tortured wailing of her baby sister beside her at the funeral had been the deciding factor for abandoning her former weaknesses. Claire couldn't be strong for Serah but, Lightning definitely could. She tried to forget the past by looking to Serah's future but, it was her own future that was looming ahead of her now. So determined was she to take care of Serah that she'd neglected to take care of herself, and the threat of uncertainty was the price she was paying for it.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up," said Noctis, reminding her of where and when she was. "I shouldn't have pushed for you to tell me if you didn't want to."

"Never talking about it doesn't make it any less real," she replied, clearing the tightness from her throat and blinking herself back into the appropriate persona.

"Still," Noctis continued, speaking with considerate precision, "I can tell that it was hard for you; that it still is. I had no right to pry."

In an effort to ebb the piercing return of her remorse, Lightning observed the boy, her gaze going in and out of focus as she tried to use his profile to dust away the ashes of her past. His previous confidence had dwindled down to quiet temperance in the wake of her revelation and yet, he hadn't regarded her in the same way others had in his position. She was particularly interested in the way he'd spoken. Instead of apologizing for _her_ – with the usual "sorry for your loss" line – he'd apologized for _himself_. He accepted the blame for her distress rather than stating the obvious. The cause of her despair was an irreversible tragedy of nature but, people still apologized on its behalf, as if nature might feel guilt. Words were rendered meaningless against something that couldn't hear them so, why bother speaking at all?

In the present instance, the perpetrator had a face, and he accepted full responsibility for upsetting her. She felt oddly appreciative for that. Too often did people expect her to simply absorb their carelessly tossed out words without repercussions. She wasn't a sponge, yet people still acted surprised when she didn't react "appropriately" to their supplied sentiments. They said that she could grieve however she wanted yet, they still put on those wounded faces when she did just that. At the end of the day, it was still about them and their feelings, not about hers.

"You're weird," Lightning said out loud, looking at Noctis from between the strands of her side-swept hair.

His brow wrinkled in confusion as he looked at her, saying, "Pardon?"

"You talk weird, considering you're – what – a seventeen-year-old? You gonna be an English major or something?"

"I might have liked that, actually," he laughed, idly, leaning his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands between them. "Forgive me but, it was just the way I was raised…I guess."

There was a pause, after which Lightning had assumed he would elaborate. When it became clear that wouldn't be the case, she was about to ask for clarification but, stopped herself. He'd stopped prying into her home life when she closed up, and she could spot similar signs in his posture that indicated his hesitancy to reveal much more about his own life. The least she could do was extend the same courtesy. Instead, she asked something different to help take her mind off her own woes.

"So, what brings you to Bodhum High? Isn't it a bit late in the year to transfer?"

"I stick out that much, huh?"

"Just a little bit."

He chuckled, an easy-going and cultured sound that gave the impression that he didn't take himself too seriously. In fact, the more her rage from earlier simmered down, the more she found that she was actually enjoying the boy's company, painful subject matter or not.

"I'm here with my father on business," he explained. "While he's out negotiating investments, I decided to take myself on a tour."

"So, you came to school? You really are weird."

"I've never seen the inside of a public school before," he said, unperturbed by her comment but, his smile growing considerably more solemn. "I was curious as to what made it different from private schools."

"Well, now you know," Lightning interjected, sweeping an arm out to indicate the troublesome lockers. "No expense is paid for the state-of-the-art technology of Bodhum High School."

He snorted in laughter at her withering sarcasm, a trait few of her peers found to be endearing. She turned her gaze back to him, analyzing the fluidity of his laugh and how it washed through the lift of his shoulders, the upturning of his mouth, and the crinkling of his eyes. An uncommonly felt needle of guilt prodded somewhere at the back of her chest.

"I'm sorry," it compelled her to say, "for the way I was acting before. I was being a bitch."

"Not at all," he countered, with an airy wave of his hand. "You're just having one of those days. We all have them. That doesn't make you a bitch."

"You'd be the first man I've ever met who thought so," Lightning said with an incredulous laugh. "Where the hell did you come from that they taught you that?"

A touch of pink dusted his fair features, and his own laugh came more as an embarrassed cough as he tugged a hand through his bangs. He was quite the character, Lightning thought. The first thing most boys her own age called her was a bitch when she didn't automatically submit to their every whim, or go out of her way to appeal to their often over-inflated egos. Initially, she'd had the same assumption about Noctis, with his "don't take no for an answer" attitude. She'd mistaken his offer of help as a chance to flex his own masculinity by conquering a door which she could not. She mistook a lot of things when she was in such moods.

"You had a lot more on your mind than the locker," Noctis said then, pointedly evading any answer to where he originated from. "I could never call you a bitch for being human."

Lightning found herself smiling in response to that, something she hadn't done in quite some time. It didn't last very long though, because his next question refilled her thoughts with dread.

"So, are you really going to force yourself to go to college?"

The bashful flush to his face was brushed away to make room for a more serious expression. The cerulean irises pinned her to her seat like ice shards as the roiling turmoil started in her stomach. She searched his severe gaze as if he might hold the answer to her plight but, they only reflected cool neutrality. Lightning dropped her eyes to set them on the toe of her boot, tucked beneath her. Of course, it was a decision she herself had to come to on her own – he couldn't make it for her – but, she couldn't break herself from the idea branded into her brain that college was her only choice.

"What else am I going to do?" she said, eyes looking hard at her shoe. "Everyone's made it out to be like college is the only option."

"Forget everyone. What they think is right, isn't what you think is right. What do _you_ want to do?"

He had turned on the windowsill to face her fully, a passion from an unknown source elevating his voice. She met his gaze again out of reflex and was struck by its sudden intensity. Why a stranger was so adamant about ensuring she had a happy future, was beyond her but, she didn't dwell on it. She was too distracted with pondering his question. She'd never considered what might be good for her, without the intrusive opinions of others. When she peeled away the layers upon layers of persistent "suggestions" which constantly plagued her, and finally got down to the raw core of herself where no opinions remained, a tiny, wisp of an idea wafted inside. She hadn't realized it when she first saw it, that it might be exactly the kind of thing she wanted out of life but, the more it took root in her mind, the more she thought that maybe, she just might want to do _that_.

"A couple of months ago," she found herself saying to the staunch blue eyes in front of her, "some men came by the school looking for volunteers into the Guardian Corps…"

"You want to be a soldier?"

"No… I want to be a fighter."

There was a long silence afterwards where her brain needed to catch up with her statement. When it did, the words made sense to her in a way that college never had. When her teachers and counselors described the college environment to her, it only ever sounded like four extra years of high school. That was like volunteering to stay four more years in prison. How in the hell did that make sense? That was only one of the many aspects that she couldn't comprehend but, fighting… The thought provided her with the most clarity she'd had in years. What was life if not about fighting?

She had to fight to overcome her grief. She had to fight to find Lightning. She had to fight to keep Serah safe. Sometimes, she even had to fight herself, whether it was over accepting the help of a stranger with opening her locker, or deciding on where the rest of her life was going. She fought every day of her life so, why shouldn't she make a career out of it?

"That's an admiral goal," Noctis said then, the severity of his stare softening in agreement.

Lightning hesitated for a moment, a shackle of doubt encircling her heart. Noctis seemed to notice because his eyes became inquisitive, asking without saying "what was wrong?"

"It's just… I'm not sure it's a path my parents would have wanted me on."

Was that the true reason that she was such a mess over college? Did it really all level back down to such a cliché? It really had nothing to do with her spite towards the school board, or to society in general. Was it really so personal?

Lightning was caught off guard when long, slender fingers clasped one of her hands, unlacing it from where it was wrapped around her ankle. She didn't have the energy to feel outraged by the sudden intrusion into her personal space, and besides, she didn't think that, even if she did, she would object anyway. Noctis had surprised her with his rare open-mindedness and reserved attitude. She'd never opened up too anyone so much, not even her own sister. Much as she loved and trusted Serah, she could never burden her with such strife. Lightning had no friends she could confide in since burying Claire and all of the authority figures in her life only inspired an instinct of rebellion rather than confession. Only through the eyes of a stranger could she be seen without bias, and it was the most refreshing feeling in the world.

Noctis covered her hand in both of his, grip steady, yet gentle, and he smiled with the warmth of the beach's sands under the glow of the afternoon sun. He spoke.

"Do right by yourself first, and everything else will follow. You're never going to know if your parents would have agreed but, if the path you choose will eventually lead you to happiness, don't you think that's what they would've wanted for you the most?"

An unfamiliar burning sensation started stinging at the corners of her yes and she quickly ducked her head so her hair could hide them. This was one of the weaknesses she no longer tolerated, and she wasn't about to let it back in. If she broke then, she might never be able to fix herself again, and the certainty she'd finally found would be lost to her yet again. She pushed the pieces of Claire back down, deep inside of herself. When she was barred back into her cage, Lightning could raise her head, eyes glittering but, not crying. She cracked a crooked smile and nodded, and that was the best form of acceptance she could give.

"You're going to be alright?" Noctis asked, smiling steadfastly.

Although he said it as a question, his expression conveyed it as a fact. He knew that she would be alright so, she in turn believed she would be too.

"Yeah," she answered, coughing to clear her throat. "I think that all this time, I just always expected that when graduation day came, they'd be there in the stands, you know?"

"They will be. Trust that they will be, and you'll see them there."

He gave her hand a tender squeeze, and the slight pressure helped to keep her back together, enough so that when he let go, she didn't fall apart.

"Want to try that door again?" he asked, nodding to the other side of the hall.

"I doubt you'll get anywhere but, whatever," she laughed with a shake of her head.

She pulled herself off the windowsill, the backs of her thighs sticking to the concrete in the moist heat. She stretched as she stood while Noctis gracefully unfolded from his perch and strode back to the locker in question.

"I can't imagine what the problem is," he murmured as he ran a thumb over the key-pad.

"I know," Lightning grumbled, moving to his side with crossed arms and a perturbed frown. "It should work. Locker 131, code 1315."

Noctis tried her code now that she'd finally given it to him but, was left just as defeated by the red words of denial as Lightning had been. Face coalescing into deep thought, Noctis swept the length of the metal door in a methodical glance, starting from the bottom and going towards the top. His analysis paused when his gaze reached overhead. He considered something for a moment before taking a small step to the left, to the key-pad of the next locker over. He deftly input the code and with a chipper little beep, the lock clicked, and he yanked it open with the familiar screech of the rusted metal corner that always got caught in the frame.

Lightning stood dumb-founded, the mark of her stupidity looking down at her from the door she'd been locked in combat with. The brass numbers on it read 132, not 131. She turned her face to the locker beside it and the contents revealed from within were of her own property. She glanced at Noctis, trying to keep on an impassive mask but, the edges of his mouth twitched to give him away. She punched him in the arm and deposited herself in front of the correct door.

"It's a damn good thing you don't go to this school because if you told anyone I was that dumb, I'd have to kill you."

He raised his hands in surrender, making a silent vow to keep his lips sealed while she hastily traded the books in her bag for the ones in the locker, face burning as she did. The droning sound of the end of class bell howled then, and Lightning blinked in astonishment as the shut doors of the classrooms burst open. Had it truly been forty-five minutes since she first sat down with Noctis? Could that be right? She looked to him as her fellow students started filling the halls. He smiled and bowed his head in farewell, making to turn away.

"Wait a sec!" she burst, not sure how to say what she wanted to say.

He turned back, the picture of patience as she tried to organize her words. Keeping the embarrassed heat off of her face, Lightning stuffed her hands into the pockets of her shorts and looked at the floor tiles.

"Um, thanks, I guess. I appreciate you hearing me out. I really needed that."

The hallway was starting to swell with inane chatter but, Lightning heard none of it. She glanced up from beneath the salmon strands of her heat-heavy hair to catch his smile, soft as the haze around the moon on a late summer's night.

"Happy to do it," he said, tapping the inside of her locker with the back of his hand. "We all get stuck sometimes but, with the right pull, we can always move forward again."

* * *

**A/N:** I had to bring up some mentions of Light's past in my multi-chapter fic and that basically inspired me to finish this up. Apparently, I started this over the summer last year - I dated it as such, any way - and I don't know but, it got put on the back-burner for a while. While I had the inspiration to try diving into the pre-game stuff, I decided now was as good a time as ever to finish it, right?

I imagine teenage!Light as pretty much the same as we know her, just with all her negative traits more amplified - her impatience, her anger, her mistrust, etc. And I imagine that it took more time to fully push away the pain of her parents death than we've been lead to believe. This basically turned into a character study of a younger Lightning - Noctis kind of got over-shadowed an itty-bit (poor kid) - and a tiny bit of a vent about my opinion of the American school system but, I'm happy it did. It's been a while since I did anything other than DR so, this was a refreshing new perspective to take.

I might try to do a similar story from Noctis's perspective someday - maybe when we get another trailer or something because it's still hard as hell to write up a proper profile of him.

Anyway, not much else to say other than that any feedback and criticisms are greatly appreciate if you've got the time and/or patience to leave some. Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! :)


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